No Rest for the Wicked
by onewritereightnames
Summary: A story place during the "Zombie War", the main characters feature a young man named Rafael (most of the time from his perspective anyway) and a strong man named Joseph Bruce who were both in prison. And a romance interest. Deals with people who were considered evil before the apocalypse and those who betrayed their own humanity to survive. M for Violence, language, sexuality.
1. Chapter 1

I. The Fool and The Giant

**It was the bombs that saved us, coupled with those harsh winters. Those damned Indians and Pakistanis caused the skies to darken after they made nuclear fires blossom in each others cities and it ****_saved_**** us. At points I felt like I was a Russian, pleading with Tsar Winter to come and save me from the walking nightmares. We must have had close to eight months of cold temperatures and five with serious winter conditions. The "Deep Freeze", I came to both hate and love that time with a deep passion But, I'm getting ahead of myself, it is best to start at the beginning of things.**

I was 24 when I killed that poor little girl. Too drunk to know where I was, speeding through a crosswalk. Little Marrieta Rodriguez, dead in street at seven years old. They put me at Cedar Junction, the maximum security prison in Walpole as it was my third offense for drinking and driving. And this time I had killed somebody. For four years I lived in a metal and cement cage with a man named Joseph Druce.

In a way I deeply respected Druce, in another I felt absolutely terrified at living in the same space with him. Druce was 47 when the Panic began and we escaped from that bloodbath. He had been put in for life without parole for killing a man who had allegedly made some kind of pass at him after picking up a hitchhiking Druce. Apparently that was all true, because at no time during my stay in the prison did he try to make a pass at me or any other man. He easily could have overpowered me, he was a huge man with arms that could have throttled my young neck without much of a fight. Yet he never touched me and always served as a deterrent to others when a group of them would try to take me on. However the thing that really inspired my respect for Druce was the fact that he had killed a Catholic priest who was being held for molesting and raping young altar servers of both genders. As five guards tried to get past the barricade that Druce set up he strangled and stomped the priest to death; and when he was lead from the cell, blood staining his bare feet, the other prisoners cheered and clapped for Druce. Druce told me once that he had two kids, a little girl and a boy of college age. He said he did it for their sake, and I took him at his word.

For four years I did the same exact thing day in and day out, mainly eating, sleeping, reading, and avoiding getting raped or killed. Then one day, as the mess hall clamored with sounds of swearing inmates and angry servers, we saw one of the first pieces of news having to do with Them. A drug named Phalanx was coming out to prevent against the "African Rabies" that were spreading. Table conversations briefly wondered at what the hell was African Rabies before returning to complaints about the slop that was passed of as food. Around late October the first of the guards started not showing up to work and replacements were called in. But soon more and more of the guards just stopped showing up and replacements didn't come fast enough to fill up the spots. Soon it was clear that the prisoners could overtake the small amount of guards left and that they would likely be murdered in the process. Yet all attention was on the news and any tvs that could work were watched by hundreds of prisoners as the "African Rabies" soon become a growing number of Them that were spreading and killing all across the country, and the globe.

The one day it all changed in just a few hours. It was Yonkers, America's finest military technology and smart war machines put against a growing flood of Them. And we sat there and watched it all unfold in complete silence, as They just kept coming past the explosions and the missiles. We continued to watch as a few million of Them continued on towards the cameras and the soldiers in front of them. One of the explosions must have destroyed the mic for that crew because we heard nothing and watched as They kept coming, on and on and on like the waves. The incendiary bombs came then, and the last thing we saw was Them marching through the flames, on fire with their arms outstretched, looking as if they would come right through from Hell and take us all. The commotion began then as we became a horde, a horde of men trying to escape the prison and find families or just somewhere to be safe. Soon however the warden came on the speakers and promised we could all be free men working with him and the men who had guarded us to make this place a fortress against them.

I can't remember if I sided with those who wanted revolt, wanted to join the warden, or just wanted to get out of there. It didn't matter though, as minutes later a roaring sound could be heard coming from the air and men rushed outside to see what it was. The plane was a 737, and it must have just taken off because when it hit the north side of the prison it obliterated part of the complex and knocked down the fences with the force of the explosion. All I remember then was running, running towards the forest alongside Druce, running from the fires and the death. Running into the nightmare.

I didn't see my first one of Them until later, almost two weeks later. Druce and I were coming down from the roof of a store in the small downtown area of a town we had come to, Brain something or other. It seemed from what we had seen on TV that they could only go slowly and simply limped along, meaning that they hopefully couldn't climb. We weren't sure though, and that fear kept us on the edge. Fear kept us alive, it consumed us and so we consumed it and turned it into vigilance and extra safeguards. It was when I wasn't afraid that It almost killed me.

We spotted her on a roof above a shop not much farther down the street, she was crying and holding a revolver with a pink handle underneath her chin with one hand, another held a bottle of amber liquid that could only be strong liquor. Her hair was brown and dirtied, her eyes were blue and swimming with tears, her jeans and other clothes were dirty and bloostained,and yet, she was beautiful. She was the first real woman I had seen in four years and she was a beautiful, dirty, mess that was about to kill herself in front of us.

"What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy bitch!?" I shouted up at her.

Her eyes snapped towards me and filled instantly with anger, but then just as quickly widened with fear. At first I thought it was the fact that we were escaped convicts, but we had our jumpsuits weeks ago. Then she screamed, "You fucking fool, behind you!"

And They were upon us. 


	2. II Introductions

II. Introductions

**There were five of them coming steadily towards us, their arms were outstretched towards us with hands grasping at the air, wanting to pull us towards their teeth. In retrospect my first encounter with a zombie was not one of great heroism, not one of reasoned retreat, instead I whipped around to look at them and promptly tried to run backwards. My feet betrayed me and I promptly landed on my ass in the street, eyes wide with terror and a warm wetness creeping down my thighs. That would've been the end if it weren't for Joseph being there with his wits about him.**

He grabbed a nearby brick and smashed it down on the head of the one who was closest to falling down upon me. Two others came at him, one behind the other and he gave a savage yell as he kicked the one in front and sent both spilling onto the sidewalk, one of their heads making a sickening crunch. After seeing this display my adrenaline kicked in and I grabbed a nearby brick and proceeded to charge at one of the remaining zombies and swing for its head. My blind anger made me miscalculate when to swing the brick and instead of hitting the zombie in the head I crashed into it and knocked it to the ground, going sprawling to the ground again myself. Something in my wrist exploded and sharp hot pain stabbed at me, and I dropped the only weapon that I had. As the zombie began to pick itself off the ground I saw the girl standing there on the roof, watching in horror, and with a perfect line of sight towards us.  
"Use the freaking gun, shoot this damn thing!"

She hastily took the gun in both her hands and aimed downwards at the zombie who was now beginning to crawl at me. Again I let loose a shout for her to kill the damn thing and a gunshot rang out. The bullet tore through the zombies arm and it collapsed to the ground, unable to support its own weight. The second and third bullets hit its back, and by then it began to drag itself with its one good arm towards me.

"Oh God kill it, kill it, the head, shoot the damn head!"

"I know I know, I'm trying you bastard!" she screamed in return.

The fourth bullet struck the pavement and ricocheted away, and the fifth hit its hand, but did nothing to slow it down. It had now crawled within a foot of me and gave a lunge towards me and on instinct my foot shot out. As my boot connected with its chest it was pushed backwards and upwards, and in that second a hole appeared in its head and black, coagulated blood leaked from the side of his skull. It collapsed for the final time and hit the pavement with a dull thud. I stared it for what felt like an age, and came back to my sense when I heard a cry of triumph from nearby.

Joseph stood triumphant, four corpses littered on the ground near him. All he had was a bloody brick and a smile on his face.

"What a rush, I've never felt so alive. The adrenaline kicking in as I kill a predator set on having me for dinner. It was amazing!" he said.

"God damn man, how the hell did you do that with just a brick?" I asked.

But before he was able to answer we both turned to the sound of a growing female voice.

"So much blood, so much blood, so much blood, my God so much blood." the girl on the roof said.

"It's okay now, they're all gone now lady, we're safe," Jospeh replied.

"You don't understand, the blood. Oh no the blood, nonono!"

In a single motion she raised the gun back to its position underneath her chin and put her finger on the trigger.

"No! Put the gun down, we can help you!" I yelled out, but it was too late.

She pulled the trigger... and nothing. Just an almost imperceptible click as the hammer on the gun moved. I was about to release a sigh of relief when I saw her bend down and begin to search for something on the ground. Fearing that she might just succeed in killing herself after all I sprinted towards the store that she was standing on. By the side I saw a ladder propped against the building and began to climb rapidly, ignoring the searing pain that was coursing through my left wrist. I quickly got onto the roof and ran towards her with a bellow of, "STOP!" Again it seemed I was too late as she already was pointing the barrel up towards her chin. I threw myself at her and collided with her as the gun went off and the sound of it deafened both of my ears. They rang with a ferocious intensity as I quickly looked over towards her face. Blood dripped down her cheek in a flow but the bullet had only grazed her cheek and her eyes were wide with fear again and staring directly into mine. I began to yell at her, only to find my ears still weren't working and I couldn't even hear what I was saying. She held a hand up to her cheek and touched the bleeding wound on her face, then looked at her own bloodied hand and promptly fell unconscious.

A couple hours later she began to stir and then quickly raised her head and looked around. Jospeh and I stared back at her when her eyes found ours and soon hers filled with an angry glare.  
"Who the hell are you people? And where the hell are we now!?" she demanded.

"Woah woah, calm down, we're only a few miles from where we were, we just wanted to be out of there in case more zombies showed up," said Jospeph calmly.

"You must have carried me and had your hands all over me too I bet! Oh no you're kidnappers aren't you or or or ra-"

"No, we're neither. We're decent human beings who didn't want to leave you stranded out there as zombie food. And for the record we drove here. But now you start answering some questions, why were you so determined to end it back there, and what was all that about blood? Do you have a phobia or something?" I said.

"What? No, no. I was training to be a scientist before this, I've had to deal with blood and gore before this. But when I got back to my home in this town a few days ago I found my house wrecked and there was blood everywhere and no sign of anyone in my family. Oh God it was horrible. I grabbed the gun my father always kept and went on top the store to camp out and see if anybody from town or my family would come through. Or at least some kind of police officer. But i saw no one for two days, only a few of those things, and I hid so they wouldn't see me. Then on the third morning I found a cache of booze, and we'll I've never drank much of anything before and there wasn't a label and I started drinking. It burnt my throat but it filled me with a feeling of readiness and I was about to do it, to leave this nightmare but then you two showed up. I feel safer now, I'm not about to try that again and... HEY! Where's my gun?"

I motioned to my own hip and said, "I'm just holding onto it for a while to make sure you don't try anything just in case. We aren't going to hurt you, but we need to be sure you don't hurt yourself. But I believe I don't know your name. What is it?"

"It's Amy, Amy O'Hare. What about you two?" she looked expectantly at Joseph and I.

"Joseph Druce is what I'm called."

"Rafael Connors, at your service Miss Amy," I said, completing it by tipping an imaginary hat.

For the first time, I heard her laugh. It was a light laugh, joyful and bright, and it was what kept me sane in the dark days ahead.


	3. III Sleep

AN: The outlandishly obvious music references are only going to increase. I suppose they're only obvious when you've heard some of the music I reference but thats not the point. The point is that there's a new chapter because fuck the police that's why.

_**III. Sleep**_

**The moans of the undead and the banging of their fists against the door leading to the roof grew ever intenser and frantic from within the large school building.**

**"Fuck guys, we aren't going to be able to hold this barricade for much longer. What do we do when they start getting up here onto the roof of this place with us?" asked Ishmael as he pushed against the barricade that blocked the single roof door up to the roof.**

**"We make a last stand with these guns that our new friends left us." said Druce simply, referencing the guns they had found in a humvee full of dead soldiers.**

**"Thats all we can do, line up and try to take them one or two at a time as they come through that door." I said, readying a set of rifles with ammunition.**

**Amy walked up to me then and laid down more clips of ammunition that we had stored in our large bags. Her hair was tied back to make getting grabbed by violent hands more difficult. She had changed clothes a few times since we had first met up with her, but as with all the others these had acquired dirt and not an insignificant amount of blood splatter. An old line, from an album that had to be closing in on a decade old by now came to mind.**

**"What was that?" she said, turning to me.**

**"Huh?" I responded.**

**"You just muttered something." she said, fitting a fresh clip into another looted pistol by our feet.**

**"Oh, it was nothing. Just some old song line. Doesn't really matter know." I said.**

**"No, tell me. If we're going to die we may as well die with everything out in the open right?"**

**"I wonder if you would still say that if you knew I was an escaped convict," I thought to myself.**

**"Well?" she said.**

**"'Kiss me, you're beautiful, for truly these are the end of days.'"**

**"Oh."**

**She leaned towards me then, eyes closed when suddenly there came gunshots from below us, inside the building. Our eyes both swung to Druce, Ishmael, and the door just as the door gave in and zombie hands began to reach through the door.**

**"Guys, get back here! Lets try to hold them until whoever's down there can help us!" I shouted.**

**Little did we know that 'whoever' would soon become our biggest enemy.**

**Two Days Earlier**

**"Looks like we're almost out of gas again." I said.**

"We'll try to siphon some from the next motel or parking lot we get to, if its not too infested that is." said Amy from the back.

"That sounds like a pretty good plan. Keep it simple and as safe as possible," added in Druce.

About twenty minutes later we pulled up to an average motel that seemed to be rather empty of anything but some abandoned cars. I parked the car by the road, in case a quick escape was needed, and we headed towards the abandoned cars.

"Druce you've got the most experience with siphoning gas, after all you're the only one who's managed to do it with out almost swallowing a mouthful of fuel. So you go ahead and start with the cars, we'll check around the entrance for anything we might be able to scavenge, you call out if we need to hightail it out of here." I finished.

Druce nodded simply, a man of not too many words, hardened by so much jail time. Amy and I walked into the lobby of the abandoned motel and searched for anything of use behind the counter. Not much was left, except a good deal of water that would certainly come in handy to bring with us for the future.

It was Amy who first the sobbing coming from the room nearby. She tapped me on the shoulder as I was rummaging through a drawer and put a finger to her lips when I turned towards her. She then cocked an ear in the direction of the main hall and I began to hear. It was a series of short, gasping sobs, mixed with muttering that echoed eerily in the halls. The two of us proceeded down the hall towards the sound and found ourselves outside another plain looking door, the wood chipped and brass numbers rusted. I held onto a machete I had found with a tight grip and pushed the door open slowly.

He was on his knees, a revolver in one hand, and his face buried in his other hand. In front of him was the pale body of a young girl, she couldn't have been more than ten years old. Except it wasn't a corpse, there was shallow breathing and the slight rise and fall of the girl's jacket. He himself was young, at most 21, possibly as young as 16.

"Hey man, we're not here to hurt you or anything. What's wrong with her, maybe we can help you get her some medical care." I said slowly, eyes glued to the revolver.

"No mate, you don't understand. Oh Emma I'm so sorry, I told you to be patient and wait for me didn't I? Oh Emma why did you have to go by yourself." he said, not even turning to us.

"What's happened? Who are you, who is she?" asked Emma quietly.

"She was in the city with me when this all started, at one of your tube tunnels, T stations I think you call them. I was visiting for the convention and when it all started I tried to take the tube to the airport but some of the came into the tunnel. And she was so scared and alone that I grabbed her hand as I was running and we managed to get out here after a week or so of hiding and running at night. We found this place and locked ourselves in a room for a night and she got up at some time and must have gone to go to the bathroom. I heard her scream and Oh God Emma don't do this to me. Emma please no." It all came out in short, jumbled sentences punctuated by sobs.

I looked towards the girl, towards Emma, and there was a bite mark on her skinny arm. Amy and I exchanged glances and let our weapons hang loosely from our hands.

"Look man, I'm so sorry. But you can come with us if you mean, get away from this place. Try to find somewhere better, ya know? As for her, Emma I mean, I... I don't know," the last part came out weakly, a thickness settling in my throat.

"Do you know what she said to me before she slipped under from the fever? She said... she said, that, that, 'I was the bestest big brother she had ever had.' Oh God please Emma, don't go kiddo. I thought I could protect you, bring you somewhere safe. Emma please don't go, please don't." Still more tears.

At this point I turned to Amy and the dirt on her face was streaked with clear lines. My soul ached to see the whole seen, my whole being felt weighted down, like stones were tied to me. The boy in front of me, the poor little girl who had been helped by a stranger from a different country. I leaned against the door and tried to steady myself, but just slid further down towards the ground. My knees couldn't support the feeling of dread that entered in my heart, but I couldn't let a worse weight fall on his shoulders.

"Let... let me do it. I can't bear to let you do what needs to be done for her. Go outside and-"

"NO! Who the hell do you think you are thinking you can just say that? It has to be me, after all. I'm her big brother aren't I?"

He reached forward and made sure that both eyelids were closed on her face. She seemed impossibly large, taking up the entire room, my eyes locked on that tiny face. He took the pistol in his other hand and held it by her forehead.

"Goodbye Emma. I hope you dream forever, away from this nightmare. I love you little sis."


	4. IV Rooftops

**IV. Rooftops**

16 Hours Ago

**"Looks like as good of a place to spend the night as any," said Amy.**

"It'll work," said Druce and I.

"Ishmael what do you think?" I asked, turning to face him.

The boy was sitting in the back with Amy. He had been stoic and silent for the better part of our journey. We departed from the Motel after we buried Emma, there wasn't a eulogy or a gravestone. Just a hole in the dirt. But that's better than nothing right?

"Ishmael, you hear me man?"

"Hm."

"Okay then, this place it is I guess."

This place referred to an imposingly large house t on the outskirts of Boston. It was situated on a lonely road, inhabited by only a few more fellow houses, and a crumbling brick wall separating their backyards from the woods beyond. It was a dull red, that was becoming darker with each moment. Night was almost upon us, and we couldn't afford to rest out in the open.

Soon we found ourselves exploring the inside of the house, everybody holstering a weapon and prepared to face the former occupants of the grand looking home. We discovered nothing however, alive or dead, and completed a full search of the house with no incidents. Soon heavy furniture was moved to block all the entrances to the home and all the windows and shades were closed to guarantee that no curious zombies would be attracted to the home.

After a silent meal of canned foods and stale bread we all headed upstairs, Druce and Amy gave a goodnight before retiring to their own rooms. We were too paranoid, or too smart, to all sleep at once. So Ishmael grabbed the first shift of watch, and situated himself on the large balcony that overlooked the street and front portion of the property. I set my watch to four hours and promptly collapsed on the bed that I was to call my own for the night. Soon the chiming ring of my watch caused me to awake, and I grabbed my heavy coat off the floor and headed towards the balcony.

One benefit of the apocalypse was the amount of clothing that could be found in homes and stores all across the country. The materialistic culture of the US was working in my favor in this instance, as all the most expensive and heavy duty coats in the market were now available for me to grab whenever I felt like it. The fact that I was a borderline medium-large meant that the vast majority of clothing that we found could be worn by me. If there was anything we ever had in surplus in those days, it was extra clothes.

As I opened the door to the balcony I saw what I pretty much expected to witness. Ishmael was sitting there, a pistol in his lap, and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his own heavy winter coat.

"Ho, seaman Ishmael. Any sightings of the white whale?" I said, imitating a pirate as closely as I could.

"I haven't seen anything out here all night."

"Ah come on man, not even a chuckle?"

Ishmael turned and stared at me, a look of intense dislike and displeasure on his face. He was clearly the farthest removed from a jovial mood as was possible, even under the current circumstances. He didn't even make a moment that implied he was going to leave his silent vigil and let me take over.

"Look man, I'm so sorry about Emma. I really am. But you can't let all the pain and sadness consume yourself, we'll need to keep moving if we ever want to make it out of this nightmare alive."

"Have you ever thought about this disease? The one that transforms us into them, that bite. It must be a mental disease."

"What?"

"If there's one thing a man owns it is his mind. The life of a man can be stolen at any moment in any place. His soul consumed in ideological fervours. His heart by a lover or child. On some day the yearning beasts of insanity or dementia may rise in him. Poisoned blood is still the man's, so is a poisoned mind still his. Under torture a man's body will betray him and the tongue will give away. But the mind remains the property of the man. A man is his mind. And if the only way to destroy them is to destroy their brain then it must be a mental thing right? I believe this disease, whatever it is, is some kind of mental disease. It activated the killswitch for all our higher functions and most of our primal ones, such as the feelings of pain. It just keeps the most basic drive, Hunger. It shows us what we really are, just beasts who devour and devour and devour without thinking. I mean, thats pretty much what we already were isn't it? Just a bunch of stupid monkeys, killing each other and slaving away so we could consume whatever the newest smart product or eat a bunch of fast food. We're no fucking different then them!" as Ishmael had continued with his speech, his voice had grown more intense, and as he finished the last word his face was red, his breath almost completely used up.

"Jesus Christ man, what the hell is wrong with you? Sure the human species is full of greedy bastards and bloodthirsty killers, trust me I've know them pretty well. But that doesn't mean we should just give up and start saying that we're no different from them. Look at us, we can actually think and feel and love. Like that girl Emma, you must have loved her as a little sister. That makes us so much more than them, can't you see that?" I said, horrified by what I was hearing.  
"You don't even get to fucking mention her name! She was the best person I ever met, and she didn't deserve what happened to her. What the fuck would you know about love huh? That stupid fucking broad that you constantly talk with huh? You just want a lay before you die huh?" as he said this he gave me a shove. And I heard a gasp.

By the open door that lead to the balcony was Amy, who had come to see what was going on when she heard the shouting. Her eyes were wide with surprise, but also full of fury.

"You... you, gaah!" she said and lunged at Ishmael.

I put my arm out and stopped her from getting to Ishmael.

"Let me go! Don't protect this piece of crap!" she started shouting.

"I can't let you."

"But why not?" she said angrily.

"Just watch."

When my fist connected with Ishmael's face his body slacked and he collapsed to the floor. 

Four Hours Ago

**"What are we going to do with Ishmael when he wakes up?" asked Druce.**

"I have no idea. But we're not going to just leave him in that car, especially if we're going to have to go through this." I said.

The road into Boston was littered with wrecked cars, which made the road impassable by car. The decision to head towards the city had been made last night, any chance of a government or people run group would be in the city. And so they had driven upwards towards the city, but the road had become more and more cars until the point of making the entire road impassable.

"Guys, guys you need to look at this!" the shouting from Ishmael was panicked and loud.

The group of us turned around and then we saw them. A giant herd was coming towards us, hundreds of zombies were marching towards us. Ishmael ran out of the car and began to sprint towards us, yelling "We have to get the hell out of here guys!"

All four of us began zigging and zagging in between the cars and running in the opposite direction of the oncoming herd. My mind was engulfed in panic, but something in my head was still active enough to get me to think about where we would go. There weren't many different buildings ahead, the giant boulevard that stretched ahead of us was several lines wide and had very few buildings nearby. One was a rectangular brick building, with a large flat roof.

"The big brick building guys, if we can get onto that roof we might be able to hold them off or hide!"

And that's how we found ourselves in the situation we were in currently. Zombies coming through the door, only so much ammunition among us, and a mysterious group of people with guns below us. 


	5. V The Tsar

A/N: 15 days... shit. Alright well here we go, my mind keeps giving me new ideas and bothering me to write even though I've been pretty busy. But here we go anyways, I'll be changing up how the paragraphs and dialogue is structured so there's a heads up. Apologies to anyone on the edge of their seat waiting for this. This chapter brought to you by the letter "p" for procrastination and the Animals as Leaders album Weightless.

**V. The Tsar**

The first few undead torsos and heads began to appear betwixt the shattered wood panels. Soon they were breaking through the remains of the door and the first several zombies uprighted themselves and began to shamble towards us, with their typical leaning gait. "Aim for the head, always the head," I said. The first round came from Druce's pistol and a single zombie collapsed directly in front of him. Soon all of our pistols were filling the air with the dry, flat report of pistols and filling the air with the acrid smell of smoke. Bare moments into the battle, if it could be labeled as such, the air also began to fill with the sounds of stuttering rifle bursts and the large boom of shotguns. Their reports approached us steadily, ever closer and higher up in the building.

The number of undead coming through the doorway never surpassed more than five. Four people with their own guns and a moderate amount of ammunition were able to hold the line well, the bottlenecking of the zombies clearly our most important advantage. Though it felt like a good deal of time had passed when the last zombies appeared in the doorway it had only been a mere eight minutes according to our watches. A pile of about twenty five of them were sprawled in various grotesque forms of collapse before us, thankfully the majority landed with their faces to the ground,sparing us much of a grisly sight.

However the ordeal was clearly not over, as our ears could still pick out the occasional report of a gun coming from inside the building we had fled to in such haste. Soon the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs to the roof could be heard, and I motioned to the others to raise their guns. What emerged into the December sunlight was a man of about 50, he had a black beard streaked with grey and an Ushanka hat on his head. He was a tall man, taller than I but still shorter than Druce, with a strong build and broad shoulders. Perhaps more noteworthy is the manner in which he approached us, his demeanor gave off no trace or inkling of fear as he walked towards us, our guns still leveled at him.

"Ah, Comrades bravo, bravo! A fine show from our future citizens, but I get ahead of myself, no? I am called the Tsar by my Comrades and what are your names?" he said extending a calloused and large hand. His words came out with a heavy Russian accent and as he mentioned his "Comrades" several of them had appeared next to and behind him. All of them had portions of riot gear on, some more fully covered than others, and all sporting guns and various bloodstains. "What do you mean "bravo"? Also, we don't mean any transgression towards you or your territory and er, Comrades," I said, warily eying the various guns that rested in the hands of the other men around the Tsar. The Tsar himself had no weapon on him and upon hearing my words a large smile spread on his face, and he began to laugh heartily. "Comrades, you have just guaranteed yourselves a place among our community, and have proven yourselves worthy of taking up the Cause."

"Wait a second, just what the hell does that mean? Are you trying to say we just passed some kind of test?" demanded Amy. "Aha! Beautiful, skilled, and clever, thats quite the amazing find!" said the Tsar. "Of course it was a test, no herd that big would make it past the sentries' notice. It was a test of survival, to see if you could withstand a large group of them coming at you. You have passed quite well, A+ even!" He began to laugh again several of his men chuckling as well. "You mean you put our lives in mortal danger, just to test us for your community. Maybe I should have shot you as you walked through that doorway after all," said Druce, his voice tinged with anger. "Haha, calm yourselves Comrades, you did quite well after all. Why do you not celebrate your victory?" "What would have happened if we had not done so well huh?" I asked, my own anger building at this "Tsar" character. "Yeah, would your guys have pulled our asses out of the fire if things were going poorly?" said Ishmael. "It was a pass or fail exam. Thank yourselves that you passed. Now, enough,come with me," the Tsar said and turned to descend the steps.

He paid no heed to the bodies he stepped on on his way to the steps, and the hefty guns of the men near him were enough to get our own group walking after him.

Two Hours Later

**"How much of the city do you actually control?" I inquired, it seemed as if the entire stretch of land we had walked so far was owned by the Tsar and his community. "You will see quite soon what we actually control, our barricades and barriers will make that obvious. It is a relatively small plot of land, but it more than fits our numbers. We keep the areas nearby as buffer zones, drawing zombies away from our real population center. Ah, here we are, the first barricade!" responded the Tsar. Ahead of us lay a wall of metal, that upon further inspection, was made up of the bodies of cars that had been welded and melted together. It was an impressive and menacing sight that greeted our eyes. I wondered briefly at how we would gain entrance into the community, as the barricade was about ten feet in height, that lay beyond the barricade when a ladder swung down. Soon we were all up and above the barricade and had clambered down on the other side of the wall.**

It was just as it had been and yet it couldn't have been more different. It was the same Prudential Center as I had always remembered except there was a certain lifelessness to it. The only people out in the street were a few more of the armed men who had he had already met and a single man in a business suit. No lights were on for the entire area, which consisted of the street beyond the barricade and, as I later learned, the entire stretch of the Prudential center and a little bit stretching outwards from there. We journeyed deep into the center, the majority of it was dark, the other portions were only lighted by lamps and small fires residing in metal trash cans.

"How many people do you have here?" Amy asked. "Many of them, former police, the poor, the homeless, those from Russian town who made it this long," said the Tsar. "Come now, keep up, we have many stairs to go." Quite soon we were on our way up and up and up and up. Soon the door was being opened in front of us and the harsh sunlight came through and hit our eyes. My eyes adjusted as we walked on to the giant buildings roof. The Tsar walked over to the railing by the end of the building and stared out towards the city. "This city... I came here when I was younger, as an immigrant no less. I was very little here, just a boy with nothing to his name really.I had only myself to rely on and as I stayed here longer I made Comrades, and earned money. But more than money I craved territory. I craved to have some of this fine city carved out for me. However, this city may soon be cleared of the dead and it will be our territory. The government is gone, order is gone. Soon this community will stretch out and we will be the order and the power here. Soon this city will beg for me, as a bitch in heat does. Soon."

The Tsar's speech sent chills down my spine with each repetition of "Soon" and I couldn't help but feel a distinct lack of safety in this community. However there would be no time to protest, as after his speech the Tsar dismissed us to our rooms, which were in a hotel by the lower portion of the Prudential. The hotel seemed rather empty of people, the halls glowed a deep red color in the flickering fire's lights. Druce and Ishmael retired to their rooms and I walked towards mine, expecting Amy to go into hers. I opened my door and nudged it close, but it refused to shut. Behind me Amy's foot was caught in the door and her hand pushed it open slightly. "Hey, I was thinking i should stay here with you. This is unknown territory to us and frankly I have no trust for these guys, they could secretly have the keys to all our rooms." she said softly. "Well I suppose that makes sense, Druce and Ishmael can handle themselves no doubt. Come in then, I'm off to sleep I guess you can crash on the couch right?" "There isn't one, look behind you. All there is is a chair by the desk," she said indicating the simple room. "Oh, uh, alright I guess. That doesn't really leave us any options." I said.

Several minutes later she was next to me in the bed which wasn't exactly made for two. I lay facing the ceiling, unsure of the conflicting emotions coursing through me. There was uncertainty at where our future lay, fear of what dark heart sat in the Tsar's chest, and despair at what might be in our future. But just then, Amy scooted over, laying her head on my chest and closing with me under the covers. I didn't say a word and allowed all those feelings disappeared. Calmness came over me in a wave. And I realized just how tired I felt, the last thing I remember before sleep consumed me was Amy's body pressed up against mine. 


End file.
